


Distraction

by Alice_In_The_Sky



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Distracted by glimpses of skin?, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, M/M, distraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice_In_The_Sky/pseuds/Alice_In_The_Sky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He truly wanted to say: yes, he was very bored and he didn't have time to listen to people like him who could talk the hind legs off a donkey however, he had to keep up appearances. He shouldn't show his other more menacing self to anyone else there. He scolded himself. He was supposed to have more self-control than this!</p><p>He gritted his teeth. If these thoughts plagued him now, how was he to cope with the rest of the evening??</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from. Really. So... yeah... XD
> 
> That last bit about them at the end of Azran Legacy is not true for this fic. So I'm still doing whatever I want with them. XDD They don't belong to me though.

It was a bad idea to attend.

Desmond Sycamore just knew it was a bad idea to attend and yet despite his better judgment, he came anyway. He had to. It was a formal gala event where many great minds in the archaeological world gathered and socialized and were awarded. His work was widely acknowledged. He was hailed as the authority on Azran Civilization so, _of course_ , he was invited. Raymond forced him to go. The old butler changed his clothes, threw him into the car and drove him to the hotel before kicking him out with a warning. If he didn't have a good time, he was going to burn all his research. The man was like a father to him but there were times when he just wished he could strangle him. 

 _Not that I'll be able to._ He thought, sulking. His old butler may not know a thing about the Azran but that old man was the one who taught him how to fight and he could tussle him up like cattle if he ever tried.

He strove not to be distracted. He plastered a smile on his face and attempted to listen to the ramblings of one of the other archaeologists ( _one of Rutledge's spawns._  His mind supplied.) about the recently discovered Mask of Order and Chaos. He didn't like them. They were nothing like their grandfather. They always acted like they know everything but they forgot that bit of mistranslated Azran script that misled people from finding that thrice-damned Mask in the first place. They didn't find the mask. The one who discovered it was right across the room with the person who was diverting his attention from everything else.

 _There it is again._ Desmond Sycamore thought irritably as he saw another glimpse of a patch of white skin, this time on Hershel Layton's wrists.

He swore, cursing his fate. Everyone in the small group he was with turned to him. His face flushed in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to curse out loud. 

"Is something the matter, Professor Sycamore?" Rutledge asked.

He laughed awkwardly. "Pardon me. I was just a little preoccupied." He replied.

They turned to where he was looking. From across the room, Randall Ascot was gesturing animatedly at his friends about something. He wasn't quite sure what it was about now but it made Layton  _laugh_  and that only served to irk him even more. Immaculately, dressed in a white suit and hat, Hershel Layton was a sight to behold. His white gloved hands held a glass of champagne for once. No tea here but the champagne was already half-full (of half-empty, he wasn't quite sure) and it made his cheeks flush red. Rutledge smirked.

"He is quite the character, isn't he?" Rutledge observed.

"Who?"

"That Randall Ascot." He replied. 

"Is he now?" Sycamore asked absently. 

He couldn't care less about Ascot. That man could be quite the pest when the fancy seizes him. It wasn't him he was concerned with.

"Do we bore you, Professor?" Rutledge asked after a long pause.

He truly wanted to say that, yes he was  _very_  bored and he didn't have time to listen to people like him who could talk the hind legs off a donkey however, he had to keep up appearances. He shouldn't show his other more menacing self to anyone else there. He scolded himself. He was supposed to have more self-control than this! Yet he could not keep his gaze from wandering back to the man with the top hat... Who had his hat tipped forward to hide his face in embarrassment and showed a glimpse his nape... Desmond Sycamore didn't know why he felt like was being punished. He valiantly tried to keep his gaze from straying but just the thought of it, made him clench his fists, nails digging into his palms.

There was something so very wrong with him. He knew that because he didn't know why he was so enraptured by glimpses of that man's skin. That man whom, just a night ago, lay beneath him in bed, his sweat slicked skin warm against his touch, raking his nails on his back hard enough that they left bloody scratches. His face- _Goodness! His face!-_ flushed in ecstasy as they tumbled over the edge together. Sycamore gritted his teeth. If these thoughts plagued him now, how was he to cope with the rest of the evening??

Feeling the eyes staring at him, Professor Layton glanced at his direction and had the decency to be startled at first and then give him a small smile, a blush on his cheeks. Obviously he remembered what they were up to the night before. The blush didn't escape Randall's sharp eyes though. He threw his arms around his friend, giving Sycamore a grin full of mischief before planting a kiss on one of Layton's cheeks. It made Layton sputter, pushing his friend's face away from him as he continued to make kissy faces at him. 

It was the infamous straw that broke the camel's back. 

 _The gall of that boy!!_ For Sycamore, Randall Ascot could be quite juvenile sometimes.

Without properly excusing himself, Desmond Sycamore marched toward Layton with purposeful strides. Layton didn't even get to greet him. Instead, he got pulled into Sycamore's arms and kissed in front of the whole shocked, (and to be perfectly honest)  _very_  pleased assembly.

"Oh my!" Rutledge could only exclaim.

Randall grinned. So wide that it almost split his face in half.

 _"Rutledge! You owe me a hundred quid!!"_ He shouted with obvious glee.

"Bah!"

They broke apart with Layton's knees weakening. Sycamore supported him but glared at both Rutledge and Ascott.

"I'll deal with you later!"

Ascott threw his arms up in mock surrender while they watched Sycamore drag Layton away, somewhere more private.

Raymond did tell him to have a good time after all.

 

**END**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Nope. I still have no idea where this came from. XDD But I kinda like it? I hope you did too.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
